


i think of nothing but that story

by minimiwrite



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers for S4 of Original CFV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minimiwrite/pseuds/minimiwrite
Summary: embrace me close and dance, cry, break, my heart is on the verge of cracking…(aichi, three days before he leaves for the moon.)





	i think of nothing but that story

**Author's Note:**

> im back on my bullshit!!

There’s three days left before the end of his life, as he knows it. It’s strange how nonchalantly the thought occurs to Aichi, almost as though saving the world from alien parasites has become just a part of his normal life. Maybe he could consider it to be now, what with this being his third time and all (it should be weird, it is weird, especially when all he wanted to do was play a card game with his friends, how did it all end up as this unsalvageable mess). 

It didn’t seem quite real that in just a few days time, he wouldn’t be sitting in the back of the class, absentmindedly writing notes, like he was now, nor would he be in Card Capital playing Vanguard with the rest of his friends, or even at home, helping his mother clean or doing homework. The weight of it all settles deeply from his heart to his stomach and back up onto his throat as he tries in vain to listen to the teacher. 

Aichi quietly pushes the thought that he doesn’t even particularly need to listen (what’s the point when he wouldn’t be of this world soon) out, out, out until he can pretend that he’s fine. At least, he’ll make sure that things are fine. There’s not much left to do now. The guardians were chosen, Kourin is busying herself with the final preparations, his Royal Paladins were neatly organized into his favorite card box; the only reason he wasn’t up on the moon just yet was some sort of complication of the ritual itself. 

There’s also the fact that his loyal knights and Kourin had instructed him to take the last few days of his life and enjoy himself to the fullest, shooing him away from the sanctuary whenever he tried to come in and help. 

Galliard and Neve had advised him to write up a list of things that he’d like to do, and if any of the activities were within their power to grant, then they would make that dream a reality. Ratie had cheerfully written down the names of multiple donut shops and advised him to go visit. Serra thoughtfully mentioned skipping school and traveling the world, to see exactly what he’s giving himself up for. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure what he wants to do now; he wants vague notions like staying by his friends, his family, Kai, he wants to spend time with them, play Vanguard with them, he wants… his normal life. 

It’s the one thing he can’t have. It’s why he’s staring holes into his math teacher’s back without hearing anything that she says, a mindless game of pretend to help him pass the time before he needs to leave.

Kourin seemed to understand it (whatever “it” may be) the most; her eyes often drifted to her phone, her left hand fidgeting and tapping, a small picture of Misaki and her laughing lighting up from the screen as she does so. When she had noticed him staring, she put the phone away before approaching. 

‘ _ Make sure you don’t have any regrets. _ ’ Kourin had said, a knowing edge to her voice as she squeezed Aichi’s shoulder and gently pushed him out towards the exit. ‘ _ There’s things you still want to say and do, right? You don’t have much time left. _ ’ There’s a soft moment of hesitation before she leans forward and quietly murmurs to him, pressing a familiar worn black ribbon in his hands.  _ ‘Please _ .’

Aichi could only nod in response, mutely leaving and walking slowly back home, the ribbon in his hands only growing heavier and heavier with each step. He dimly realizes now that he still hasn’t given it back to Misaki, a weariness washing over him in waves. How can he have so much and so little to do, at the same time? How is it that he can’t think of anything that he wants at the time when he needs it the most?

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he almost misses the teacher calling his name to answer a question on the material, spluttering as he trips over his feet as he tries to get to the front to write his answer on the chalkboard.

“Oh, Mister Sendou…” his teacher shakes her head in a teasing, slightly sharp manner, a hand on her hip. “It’s an important time for all of us, with finals coming up this Monday. What are you doing, getting all lost in your thoughts like that?” 

He knows that his teacher didn’t mean the it the way that he heard it; nonetheless, the somewhat innocent question was a good one. Just what  _ is  _ he doing?

God, he wishes that he really knew.

* * *

 

“Ahhh, I still don’t understand what the hell a derivative is!” Naoki flopped on one of the many tables for the cardfight club, listlessly shuffling through his cards with a slight scowl (Aichi couldn’t help but smile, it was weirdly nostalgic seeing him pouting like this). “It’s the slope or whatever, right? Of something…” 

“It’s the rate of change of the values in the function itself.” Shingo’s frustration shone through easily, as he irritably fiddled with his glasses. “Weren’t you listening at all during your math period?”

Naoki makes a noncommittal noise as he shoots a halfhearted glare at the shorter boy. “I just, can’t visualize it, ya know? And why’s it important? When would I ever need this in the real world that this dumb school is supposed to be preparing us for?” 

“Just because you can’t see the reason why something is important now doesn’t mean it’s not going to have an impact later. Right, Captain?” Shingo turned towards Aichi, a wide smile appearing on his face as he does so (he’ll never understand why Shingo looks up to him so so much, but there’s a sense of ease he feels as he meets Shingo’s admiring stare).

“Ah… yes… of course.” Talking about the future like this felt strange; anything that would have been important even just a few weeks ago seem so much less so. The words that finally struggle their way out sounds fake to even his own ears. “It’s important to prepare for the future, Naoki. You don’t know when it might be useful…? Maybe you’ll want a job… that needs that information…?” 

There’s a bit of a grumble from Naoki as he turns his face away from both of them. “... I don’t even know what I want.” 

“That’s why it’s important to study now.” An irritated huff escapes Shingo as he stomps over, dragging a chair with a creak. “I swear, you’re just like my younger brother sometimes. It’s important to keep your options open if you don’t know what you want. Now scoot over, I’ll draw you up a function and show you what I mean.”

“H-hey, wait, what?! I-it’s club time though!” Naoki suddenly swerves his entire body to look pleadingly at Aichi. “And it’s not like I’d actually learn any of it right now, ya know I’m not like the rest of you all.” 

“Yes, yes, we know that you have the intelligence level of a water flea, but that just means you just have to study harder.” Shingo pulls Naoki’s arm to the side and grabs a notebook and pen from his bag without sparing a glance at him. “If we converted half the time you moaned about these classes into time spent studying for them, then I’m sure your grades would go up.”

There’s a solid thunk as Naoki drops his head against the table. “Ehhh... I don’t know about that.”

Aichi reaches out a hand and softly pats Naoki’s shoulder. “Naoki, you’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. Stop thinking that you’re not. You’re here at Miyaji too, right?”

“Well, I mean… I only applied because my brother pressured me to.” There’s a bit of a frown on Naoki’s face, hands curled up into fists. “I barely made the cutoff and I’m just barely keepin’ up with classes anyways.” 

“And _ that’s _ why,” Shingo says primly, as he smacks the back of Naoki’s head with the notes (it makes a thwapping noise, but Aichi can see that Shingo didn’t put any force into the hit at all), “We’re here to help. Right, Sendou?” 

“Of course!” There’s a lump in his throat that he desperately tries to hide as he brings a chair to Naoki’s other side and smiles as much as he can. “We’re… We’re teammates and friends, Naoki, we want to help you.” 

There’s another exasperated sigh as Naoki finally sits up and takes the notebook from Shingo’s hands, unenthusiastically flipping through it. “I’m just sayin’, we could be playin’ Vanguard.” 

“You’re lucky Tokura isn’t here to hear you say that.” Shingo’s wry voice echos Aichi’s thoughts. “She wouldn’t be as merciful as either of us.” 

“Mmm… I kinda wish she was though. It’s been a while since she’s come to club.” Naoki stops at the page with the notes on math, glumly rereading Shingo’s small handwriting. “It’s like we lost two members, instead of one.”

Silence permeates the air as the loss that all three of them have been ignoring again comes to the forefront. It was all too easy to pretend that Kourin had been busy with work or that Misaki had either gone to support her at an event or was working at Card Capital; the idea that they were short members simply dismissed in an effort to maintain a weird semblance of normal life. 

(The guilt of Kourin’s absence weighs heavily on Aichi’s shoulders all of a sudden. No matter how much he wants to bring her here, have them all play hours and hours away together, all five members of the Miyaji Fight club laughing and stressed from finals, it can’t happen anymore. 

It was because of his choices that it couldn’t.) 

“She’s busy with Card Capital.” Shingo’s voice was stiff, his eyes looking away from both Aichi and Naoki. “Tokura will be back when she can.” He clears his throat, speaking in a more chipper tone as he faces Naoki again. “Until then, you have Sendou... and me too, I guess.” 

There’s a tired (but it was wide, wider than it had been for a while) smile on Naoki’s face, as he places the notebook carefully back down and straightens up his back. “Yeah, yeah. Aichi’s great and all, but I don’t know if you’ll be a better tutor than the boss lady and Kourin.”

“Excuse me, I tutor my younger brother all the time and  _ he  _ gets wonderful grades.” Shingo’s undignified spluttering merged with Naoki’s boisterous laughter as the two huddled closer together, pencils in hand. 

Aichi can’t help but just watch the two for a moment, letting the scene sink deep into his memory, seep into his thoughts. It was foolish, in a way, he knows that once he’s asleep, it wouldn’t matter anymore, but something about the moment felt so undeniably special. It wasn’t something that he could let himself let go of. 

“Oi, Aichi!” Naoki’s voice snaps him out of his own thoughts as he registers a hand waving across his face. “C’mon, you gotta save me from Shingo! I don’t need to show all the steps if I get the answer right, right?” 

“Sendou, you have to help me get Naoki to sit still, his leg is bouncing all over the place and it’s so distracting!” 

Aichi takes in a deep breath in, and slides his chair in closer to Naoki’s seat with a small smile. He still has three days, right? There’s still some time left to do something like this without regrets. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here.”

_ He’s here, he’s here. _

* * *

 

There’s two days left now, the last Sunday of his life, and he’s in the middle of watching Kamui and Misaki play a game of Vanguard at Card Capital, the line blurring more and more between passively letting his life float away and doing whatever it is makes him happy. Aichi briefly wonders when he put all of his actions into those two neat little boxes, when he decided that things that made him happy were also a waste of time (maybe it's a part of growing up, he thinks quietly). 

Misaki loses, her six damage to Kamui’s three, and she busily gathers up her cards, mumbling that she needs to mind the register again before dashing off, an empty look in her eyes. Kamui tries in vain to rile her up for one more game, but Misaki’s half hearted glare is enough to quiet him down with a troubled grimace. 

“You tried your best Kamui.” Aichi gently places his hand on Kamui’s drooping shoulder after Misaki sits quietly at the chair up in front. “Misaki’s just not… her heart’s just not in it right now.” 

There’s a noisy sigh from Kamui as he gathers up his cards and shuffles them together in a pile. “It’s been three weeks though… Misaki hasn’t asked to play a single game of Vanguard since the Link Joker thing!” 

He tries to smile, to reassure Kamui, to tell him soon, soon, things will be better. “Sometimes it just takes longer to heal. We need to be considerate of Misaki’s feelings too, Kamui.” 

“I know… I know, but!” Kamui places his chin in his hand, pouting all the while. “It’s so frustrating not being able to help. We’re all friends, right? I want to help my friends!” Kamui’s voice raises a little at the end, a hopeful glance in the direction of the doors, but Misaki doesn’t even look up, her face buried in a book. 

“Let’s just… give her some more time, okay, Kamui?” There’s a plea in his voice and the hand on Kamui’s shoulder tightens slightly, both his heart and Kamui’s posture sinking further as Kamui nods lifelessly. “Sometimes, it just takes longer.”

“But how long?” There’s an exhausted look on Kamui’s face as he stares directly at Aichi (he knows that he needs to meet Kamui’s gaze, but it hurts to, and before long he just glances away), both childish pleading and genuine worry coloring his voice. “Misaki’s the strongest person I know, aside from you. She’s so strong, that she’s even helped me out of my slumps.”

“Kamui, she’s just lost someone really dear to her. We need to be respectful of that.” 

“I know! I know… but… I want to help her. She’s just being sad by herself right now. I don’t want to just leave her like that. That’s not what friends do.”

Another lump in Aichi’s throat grows as he gently pats Kamui’s back, sitting down next to him. Both of them stay like that for a while, as Kamui miserably organizes his cards and slowly places them all back together again in order, finally sitting up with a groan and another worried glance at Misaki. 

“I’m gonna try one more time.” Before Aichi could reach out and stop him, Kamui ran towards the register, loudly proclaiming that he was heading to the Card Shop Voyage, slamming his hands against the front register and asking if Misaki wanted to go with him to play against Gouki and the other members of Team Handsome. He, of course, is politely rejected, and Aichi pretends to not hear the soft sniffling as Kamui runs out the door. 

The ribbon in his pocket feels heavier than ever now, as he finally stands up, only a few people left in the store, trudging his way to the front register.

“Misaki…”

“Don’t. Please, Aichi.” There’s a flat tone to Misaki’s voice, only the slightest bit of trembling apparent from the corners of her book. “I appreciate both you and Kamui, but please.” 

He almost nods and leaves, but the image of Kourin’s pleading eyes stops him as he digs out her ribbon. “I… you should have this.” Aichi places the long strip of cloth down on the register, the curled ribbon winding itself down. 

Her eyes grow wide as Misaki finally puts down her book, reaching out with trembling hands. “Aichi…”

“I, uhm…” He clears his throat, closing his eyes, hoping that she doesn’t catch the lie he’s about to tell. “Asaka found it and gave it to me to give to you. She said that she found it while we were all walking back from the Tatsunagi building.” 

Misaki doesn’t seem to hear him as she brings the ribbon closer to her, curling herself around it, ever so slightly. The two of them stay like that, for a little bit, as Misaki carefully winds the ribbon around her wrist, pressing it against her lips once she done, with her eyes closed. Aichi waits and waits and  _ waits _ , because even if he only had two (just two!) days left, he knows. He can’t bring himself to interrupt Misaki as her breathing evens out again from the strangled breaths she was taking, or comment on the slight wetness near her eyes. 

“... Thank you.” Misaki gently takes his hands in hers (his fingertips brush across the tip of the ribbon, and it’s almost like its him, Misaki, and Kourin together once more). “Thank you.” 

“I’m… glad that you have it now.” Aichi can’t meet her gaze (it seem as though he’s been avoiding looking into many people’s eyes lately), but he squeezes her hands in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “Kourin… would have wanted you to have it.” 

There’s another moment of silence, a soft kind of mood settling between them, a breath of fresh air. Aichi can’t understand just how much Misaki has lost and given up; her parents, her beloved Oracle Think deck, Kourin. All the hurt, all the loss, for someone barely a year older than him is something he can’t fathom. He can’t truly understand why she wants these physical reminders when she has a picture perfect memory that she can revisit, though he thinks that he’s beginning to. But as his hands tighten once again around Misaki’s, he hopes that even if he doesn’t get it at all, that maybe, just a little, he’s helpful. He can support her.

Their moment only interrupted by the sub-manager gently jumping onto Misaki’s lap with a mew and Shin sliding up next to them with his characteristic smile (though, Aichi thinks, maybe it’s even more kinder than usual). 

“Misaki, you’ve been behind that counter for too long! Why don’t you go join Kamui at Voyage?” Shin carefully takes the forgotten book and cheerfully puts it into his apron pocket. “You’ve been taking so many extra hours I might not even be able to pay you!” 

“Sh-Shin…” 

“Come on now.” Aichi watches as Shin takes Misaki’s apron from her, folding it with precision, a decisiveness not usually seen in the adult. “Vanguard is fun, right? You can still have fun. It’s okay. Everyone who loves you wants you to have fun.”

Misaki bites her lip, staring at her guardian, posture stiff, as if she’s ready to argue that she should stay, shouldn’t move on, before her shoulders slump a little, whispering out an “okay,” before grabbing her deck and walking towards the doors (Aichi can’t help but wonder if she’s going because she wants to or because she’s too tired to fight anymore). “I’m off.” 

“I’ll be waiting for you to come back.” Shin’s smile grows a little bit wider. “You’ll probably be out until a bit late, then, right? Are you okay with curry for dinner?”

“... only if you go easy on the onions.”

Shin’s laugh is short before he turns to Aichi, putting a hand on his shoulder as well. “You should go too. I’m sure Kamui will have a lot more fun if both of you are there.” 

“Ah… I was gonna go see if I could find…” 

“Kai?”

Aichi jumps a little, Shin’s knowing glance and grin slightly unnerving. “It’s okay, just don’t bring him back here to be lovebirds, okay?” 

He chokes, and he feels Misaki rolling her eyes rather than seeing her as she pulls him out of Card Capital, calling out one more “I’ll be back soon,” with finality. 

Once they’re out and start walking aimlessly, he hears Misaki’s voice, carefully monotone. “It’s okay if you want to be with Kai.” She twists the ribbon around on her wrist a few times before speaking again. “You should be happy.” 

“Even though…” He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, ask her if it was alright, even if Kai had been a huge part as to Misaki’s current loss, if it’s okay to be happy in a relationship even when she was still reeling from an empty space in her life.

Misaki faces him squarely, eyes slightly red but stature firm and tall. “It’s okay Aichi. I don’t want to hold you back.” There’s a wry smile on her face as she continues. “I miss Kourin. I miss her so much I don’t know what to do sometimes. But, I know she would’ve been happy to see you get together with Kai too. That’s… that’s good enough, for now.” She reaches out once more, gently placing her hand on his back and pushing him, just enough that she can wrap her arms around him in a warm hug. “I’m glad… that both you and Kamui were here for me. Thank you.”

He returns the hug, wishing that Kourin could be here, with them as well. 

(Aichi knows she could have been.)

“I’m glad I was here too.”

* * *

 

Aichi finds Kai in exactly the one place he thinks he would: the park bench, asleep. The sun was just starting to set, the sky tinged a slight red, giving Kai a soft glow. He looked- he looked good, if Aichi was being as honest with himself; the sun softening the edges, his face relaxed and serene instead of the more recent regret that colored his expression. He gently reaches out before pulling his hand back, choosing to sit on the ground nearby the bench instead of waking Kai. 

The weather was becoming colder and colder, he had to switch back to his winter uniform a few weeks ago; but somehow, between the sun and the sound of Kai’s soft breathing, he feels warm, at ease, and he leans back with a bit of a smile. 

“Kai.” He doesn’t feel Kai stir at all; it’s not surprising really, considering the trouble that he had sleeping after the Link Joker incident. It turns out, to no one’s surprise, that working with aliens who were set on destroying the world settles heavily on your conscious afterward. Aichi feels a small frown pulling at his lips. Kai is kind, is a good person, which is why he was trying so desperately to make up for his mistakes; he still wishes that Kai could rest well soon (maybe not as well as him, sleeping for the rest of his life on the moon, but…). 

There’s not much he would say even if Kai was awake, he thinks, a bit too shy. It’s not fair, to him, if he confessed his feelings, as nothing would ever grow from it, even if Aichi thinks that maybe, just a little, Kai may return them. There’s no more he wanted to speak about on the topic of Link Joker, or Vanguard, or school, or anything else he could think of, the act of seeing Kai what he wanted more than anything else. 

He loves Kai, loves how the words feel as he whispers it to the still snoozing teen on the bench, loves how easily it comes to him. Aichi loves all of Kai Toshiki, and his heart quietly throbbed in his chest as he gently leaned on the bench, a small smile beginning to form at the corners of his mouth.

It would be a lie to say that he would miss Kai the most; his mother, Emi, all of his friends, the fellow cardfighters that he had met throughout the years, they all occupied the same amount of space in his still beating heart. But he also knows that it’s not a lie to say it hurts in a completely different, deeper way as Aichi tries to memorize the few freckles on Kai’s face, the shape of his jaw, knowing that there wouldn’t ever be time to see Kai again. 

Aichi lets more and more time pass, moments of his life flowing through his fingers, passing him, the sun making its descent down, down, down as he quietly waits for Kai to wake up. He thinks that maybe he’ll regret it later, when there’s only a little bit of time left, a quick five minute walk to the road that split his path home with Kai’s. But right now, just in this moment, he carefully watches over Kai with a silly, fond smile on his face, his jacket draped over the older boy like a blanket, just content to be in the other’s presence. 

Later, late enough that he knows his mother will be fretting and Emi will scold him the moment he walks through the door, after Kai wakes up and stutters out that Aichi should have woken him up, and after Aichi’s heart somehow stutters out even more affection for the awkward cardfighter, they walk home, fingers gently brushing against each other’s, a silent reminder that they’re there, they’re here, together. 

(He can’t help but think about the time Kai said that their paths would come back together again, during the Asia Circuit as he waves and waves and waves at Kai’s retreating back. Even though he knows, he  _ knows _ , that it won’t happen, he sends up a silent prayer that they’ll meet again.)

* * *

 

On the last day of his life, Aichi Sendou fails his math exam. And his history exam. And his English exam. And he’s surprisingly okay with that. 

None of the words on the paper mean anything to him, none of the answers he jots down seem even vaguely correct, and none of it bothers him, the hours passing by with an increasing sense of ease as he randomly chooses to bubble in the tiny circle in the third column again, and again, and again. In a way, he finds the fact that he didn’t study even more calming than when he does; knowing you know absolutely nothing makes seeing the coming consequences easy. 

He watches Naoki and Shingo commiserate over their chosen answers together in their brief walk home (the two of them had gotten different answers on half the questions, and now even Shingo seemed to be unsure of what exactly went about on the exam) with a strange emptiness, before waving goodbye to them and entering his home. 

There’s sounds in the kitchen, clacking and bubbling, and Emi’s voice complaining about the length of the test, how no one finished, even if they thought they had been ready, his mother gently telling his sister that no matter how awful she thought the test went, they may have done better than they expected. It was mundane, what he came home to everyday, and yet it was enough for tears to form in the corners of his eyes. 

“I’m home!”

“Aichi, welcome back!” He hears Emi dashing towards the door, can hear the smile on her face as she walks to the hallway. “How were your finals?”

He winces as he remembers literally writing in the words ‘ _ I don’t know _ ’ again and again for an entire essay prompt on his History final. “Uhm. Not too well.” 

“Bleh. Mine weren’t very good either.” Emi scrunches up her face in a bit of a pout. “I wish Miyaji would understand that just because someone knows a lot about something doesn’t make them a good teacher.”

Aichi laughs a bit, walking back to the dining room with Emi to set the table together. “It doesn’t get much better in high school, so you might want to get used to it.” 

Emi breathes out a noisy sigh as she places plates down. “Life sucks.” 

“Wait until both of you get to college.” His mother’s voice calls from the kitchen. “Most professors are only there to research, and have to teach to stay. Your father and I would split the entire curriculum with friends and figure it out from the books.” 

“That’s not very encouraging.” Emi calls back, amusement and a slight edge of horror coloring her tone. 

Their mother walks back into the dining room, a bowl with steam rising from its contents. “Well, as you said before, life sucks.” She smiles at the two of them, reaching out and placing her hands on the top of their heads gently. “But in the end, people don’t die from one or two bad tests. You’ll survive. And even if your grades are bad, just know know your father and I already know you’re trying your best. That’s wonderful on its own.”

“Moooom.” Emi’s whines are clearly fake to all three of them, and she childishly bats their mother’s hand away. “You’re embarrassing us.” 

The Sendou mother laughs as she pulls her hands away and starts to ladle out the stew in the bowl. “I know, I know. But I just wanted to say that I’m always proud of you two. I always have your backs, even if you fail a few exams. I mean, I’ve always had your father’s back and  _ he  _ almost slept through his last final and ended up taking it in just his underwear and a tee shirt.”

“Dad did?! Wait, what?” Aichi felt his jaw drop. 

His mother winks at him, before returning to the kitchen, humming another tune while her children stares at her retreating back for a split second, before sharing a glance between the two of them and then scrambling to follow her to hear more and to help divvy out the food. 

It was warm and comforting, the food (the stew a favorite of his), the conversation, his family. His mother tells them of how she and his father met, other stories of near misses in school, more somber ones about even when she had tried her hardest, the tests that still didn’t go her way. 

He felt full, fuller than he had in weeks, eating without thinking, laughing without weight, the heaviest thing that he had in his hands the bowls stacked neatly in his arms as he puts them away after his mother washes them. 

“Do you feel better now, Aichi?” 

Aichi nearly drops the entire stack of dishware before regaining his composure slightly and glancing at his mother’s back. “Uhm.”

“You seemed down this week. I know that you’ve been having a hard time studying, so I thought that today would be good to unwind a little.” She turns off the faucet, wiping her hands on her apron, facing towards Aichi again, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders, squeezing. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I know you’ve been trying your hardest. But make sure you leave some time for yourself, okay, Aichi? And that I’m here for you. Your mother is always here for you.” 

The guilt threatens to choke him (he’s leaving her, he’s leaving his family, his mother and  _ Emi _ ), and he barely manages a nod before he leans in and he’s wrapped up in his mother’s arms as she gently makes hushing noises. 

“I’m here, Aichi. I’m here.” He hears her whispering as the tears pour out and she gently combs her hand through his hair. “It’s okay to cry. You’ve been working really hard, haven’t you?”

He can’t nod or speak, a croaking noise escaping from his throat instead as he buries his face into his mother’s shoulder and lets the ache finally overtake him. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over. There’s no more time left.

His mother lets him cry and cry, quietly humming an old lullaby he remembers her singing when he was just a child, waiting for the tears to run dry before whispering in his ear, “Let’s get you to bed. You deserve a nice, long rest.”

He wants to shake his head, wants to argue that he can stay up, that he never wants today to end, for him to sleep, to leave, but his mother gently takes the bowls weighing him down and ushers him to bed.

Aichi hears Emi’s worried voice muffled through the door of his room, his mother’s gentle tones stopping his younger sister from running in to check on him. The sounds of his family fade away as they walk down the stairs, without him.

And Aichi quietly climbs out of his window, walking to where Kourin is waiting for him, without his family.

* * *

 

He’s back on the moon now, sitting on his chair, silently waiting for Kourin and his knights to come in and complete whatever steps are left now, emptiness cloying in his stomach.

In the end, he did nothing of value. He never had traveled the world to see any sights or tried foods that he’s never had before, didn’t finish the four or five (or six or seven) books that he started and then placed on the shelves, didn’t even try to think of things that he wanted to do before he died. Aichi has to stifle a laugh as he realizes that Team Q4 never had gone back to the beach just to mess around or played in another tournament together as the four original members of the team, or that he never even learned how to drive.  

Even so, Aichi doesn’t regret the time that he spent. He just wishes he had more of it. The three days he was given to wrap up loose ends only served to make him crave more of his own life; he wants to study with Naoki and Shingo, play Vanguard with Kamui and Misaki, actually confess to Kai, spend time with his family… it hurt, it hurt to think about it, so he clutches his Royal Paladins to his chest and hopes that someone will come put him to sleep soon. 

He briefly hopes that he lived well before he realizes, due to the memory wipes, it doesn’t even really matter anyways. 

(Aichi still hopes, just a little, no matter how selfish, how egotistical, that something, anything will change after he’s gone, a mark that he made on the world that couldn’t have been done by anyone else.)

* * *

 

Aichi’s drifting, only vaguely aware of who he is, where he is, what’s happening. He knows he’s almost asleep, his consciousness muggy and silent as he struggles to keep from drowning in the air around him. There’s no sound, no movement, no color or light in the world behind his eyelids, and he can’t open up his mouth to scream.

He can’t hear it speaking, but the Link Joker seed reaches out to him, conveys that it wants to see more of the world, to live, to experience. It’s purpose, Aichi knows, is evil, in the broadest sense of the term. What it does to live will hurt everyone he loves, has already hurt him. But this seed, Aichi also realizes, in some ways, is also but a child, afraid and curious all at once, wants to see what both Cray and Earth can offer it.

‘Let’s go together. Let’s go again. There’s things you want to do right? Let’s just go for one more day.’ It pleads, without saying a single word, with intense silence. 

There’s very little he can offer, even less that he wants to give up. But he still reaches out. ‘Just wait a little. You must be exhausted too, right?’ 

‘Let’s dream together.’

They wrap around another, and Aichi finally, finally falls deeply asleep. 


End file.
